This is How Much I Miss You

There is no we to populate this sunny room.
There's only me, and words. There isn't
Loneliness. I served that sentence. Now,
I'm done, and freed of sorrow, obligation,
Toes to keep from crushing, endless
Anecdotes to suffer, sitting still, as if
I cared, when all I wanted was to slip
Away, I am, in fact, away, and all those
Solipsists who sought to use me, wives,
And friends, and almost-lovers, are no
Longer here. The words, my words, are
All at last. I thrive, released from we.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 21 times
Written on 2011-02-04 at 00:51

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